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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357646">The Scale of a New Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria'>HogwartsToAlexandria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cast out Draco Malfoy, Dragons, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Rebuilding, Referenced loss of a parent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:40:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco needs to start over, far far away. Charlie's always been happy living in his little corner of Romania. They meet and shy sparks fly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic In A Box</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Scale of a New Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts">BiffElderberry</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco didn't hide. He didn't flee. But he also didn't confront. </p><p>Maybe he did hide sometimes. But only because he was too clever not to know better now. A new life, a new start, it all meant he had to — had to know better and had to know when to shut up. He didn't even talk much anymore. Didn't have much to say or anyone to say it too anyway.</p><p>Moving to Romania might have been a little extreme, or it might not have even been far enough. He didn't know. All he knew was it wasn't about fleeing, it was about rebuilding. It was about what his mother had told him before she'd died — make a new life for himself was all he could do now, and he should go forth and do it brilliantly. </p><p>Draco didn't know about brilliant.  He didn't know what was so beautiful and magical in the fact that the only job he could find that would pay bills he didn't yet have was the equivalent of a farmhand, only, for <em> dragons </em>. He didn't know what he was doing, and the fact that the train he was on reminded him so much of the Hogwarts Express wasn't lightening his mood at all. </p><p>But he was on the train. Alone. Determined. Scared out of his mind. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Majestic. Passionate and passion-inducing. Fire and ice and earth, flying above, watching heights unavailable to mere humans be they wizards or not. Dragons. </p><p>Dragons by the dozen. Dragons Charlie got to take care of every day and hopefully for the rest of his life. Dragons he was lucky enough to have forged actual bonds with. </p><p>Charlie Weasley was happy, at home in the Romanian countryside, where Muggles were scarce yet not so far that he couldn't get away from magic if he so wanted but mostly, where land was so wide and so warm, his favourite beings in the world could live and grow and evolve painlessly. </p><p>The domain wasn't his, it was Albert's, the man who'd been kind enough to offer him a job right as he finished school, but Charlie felt just at home either way. Going back to Britain every other year never made him nostalgic or anything of the sort, not the way some of his colleagues and friends felt, not like his mum certainly wished he felt. He liked it well enough, but it was too small, too cold. And there weren't enough dragons. </p><p>Romania was good, and <em> Draconum Tectorum </em> was home. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Saying Draco felt out of place was an understatement. Probably the understatement of the century. His skin had felt clammy and too heavy since he'd set foot out of his train wagon, his shirt stuck to his back and the jacket he'd had to shuck off was inconveniently balancing on his wrist above where he was holding onto his suitcase, not quite sure what use of magic he could make until he was well into the territory of the domain he was to get to. </p><p>No regrets, he couldn't have any. He <em> didn't </em> have any. This was where he had to be. He needed to be out of the wizarding world like he'd known it all his life, and he needed to work. So he smiled as gracefully as he could to the bloke who fetched him from the station, did not grimace when he was made to get into the back of a car — he still hated those, muggle vehicles that could kill him by malfunctioning in any number of ways were not his thing, <em> thank you very much </em> — and politely answered the albeit very few questions he was asked on the way to their destination. He even asked one of his own — <em> "Do you know where I'll be staying?" </em> </p><p>But the bloke — Raymond — only shrugged, so Draco did as much, and shut his mouth again.</p><p>Getting out of the car was a short-lived relief. Somehow, all the research he'd made before taking the leap and coming here had not brought forth the sweltering heat of Romania in the summer, and while the car had been ventilated, Draco was right back to sweating like a troll. He should have known, really, even Scotland could be distastefully hot then, but his hair was getting stuck to his temples and forehead!</p><p>"Charlie! Get over here!" Raymond yelled, making Draco startle, and quickly hide his scowl. Building a new life demanded better foundations than appearing ungrateful to men who fetched him from train stations. </p><p>It took a second, but <em> Charlie </em> eventually picked up on the repeated yelling of his name, and shouted back that he was coming, only to come jogging up to them a few seconds later. </p><p>Draco bit the inside of his cheeks and looked down on the grass when he and Charlie's eyes met as he ran. And he did not blush. The heat did that, that's what he was feeling at the back of his neck, the sun, nothing more. </p><p>"This guy here's new," Raymond told Charlie, pointing at Draco with a finger that was dirtier than Draco had originally picked up on. "Gon' be a scale-hand, show him 'round, ok?" </p><p>"Sure thing!" Charlie responded, his cheerful tone making Draco look up again — which he regretted immediately, no shirt and long red hair sticking to his shoulders is what Draco saw. Dark green eyes piercing right through him too. That wasn't good for his composure. Not good at all. "Am Charlie, Dragon healer and handler." </p><p>The man extended his hand, which Draco first stared at dumbly — it had little scars all over the palm and fingers that looked rough even from where Draco was standing, but it also managed to look delicate somehow — and then took it when Charlie cleared his throat rather pointedly. </p><p>"Draco." </p><p>"Hmm," Charlie nodded. The fact that they were still shaking hands did not register until the man smiled at him and Draco realized something —</p><p>"You're a Weasley!" </p><p>Then he blushed. This time he really did. Because he wasn't normally the type for shocked exclamations directed at total strangers. And because Charlie Weasley was laughing in a way Draco hadn't ever experienced before — like he thought he was cute, and that simply did not happen. Draco had dropped the man's hand as he'd talked and while he was glad the man couldn't feel the way his own now trembled slightly, he still had to crush down the little nagging voice in his head that told him he'd liked shaking Charlie Weasley's hand. </p><p>"And you are Draco—"</p><p>"—Black, I go by Black." <em> Now </em>, Draco left out that word, but the understanding he saw in Charlie's eyes was enough. </p><p>"Well, Draco Black," Charlie gave him a smile, "Let me show you around." </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Weeks had passed since that first day at <em> Dracorum Tectorum </em>. Weeks that Draco had thought went by both too quickly and dreadfully slowly. </p><p>Dreadfully slow were the days were dragons proved a subject much harder than he'd thought they would be. Creatures that were dangerous and which he did not understand in the slightest. Dreadfully slow too, the days were Draco felt lonelier and more lost than he'd felt in a long time. </p><p>It would never be as bad as it once was, and for that he was thankful, and of that he tried to remind himself when all he could feel and think about was his frustration as he contemplated his life. </p><p>But there were also days that seemed to pass him by in a blur, too quickly for Draco to fully comprehend what they entailed — moments that took over entire nights he spent awake and thinking, entire days where he got hurt because caring for a dragon's scales while distracted was never a good idea. </p><p>Days that suddenly hit a fast-forward motion every time Draco found himself in the same space, room or field as Charlie. He couldn't even bring himself to spitefully call him by his last name. Weasley had always meant Potter's mate, and for some reason Ronald and Charlie did not match in Draco's mind. They hadn't when Draco had first met him, and they certainly did not now that weeks had passed, and the man couldn't seem to stop flirting with him. </p><p>It took a number of forms, not the most obvious at first, which Draco appreciated only because it meant he was eased into the process. He hadn't <em> flirted </em>with anyone in a long time. He didn't really remember flirting per say actually. Answering favorably to both girls and boys at school that he'd done, but not anything that actually required he make a move on his own. </p><p>He wasn't scared. </p><p>Not really? </p><p>Charlie Weasley was nothing like his past not-flirts though. So he could get some slack — and some points, right? — for not immediately freaking out and trying to play it cool instead. </p><p>Except for that one time he'd run away. That wasn't particularly cool. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Albert talked in long sentences, in a loud voice and with strong intonations. Oh and with an added flavor of heavy hands falling on Charlie's shoulder every time he felt like strengthening his arguments, which was often. It was all right. Charlie was used to it, and the dragons generally hurt him more than that without ever meaning to either. </p><p>But it got worse when Charlie wasn't paying close enough attention — Albert liked the sound of his own voice but he liked other people liking it, too. </p><p>"You're not listening, Weasley," Albert groused good-naturedly, and he was right. </p><p>Charlie blinked and tried to appear surprised anyway, grinning when Albert laughed at his poor attempt. </p><p>"Got Blondie on your mind again, uh?" </p><p>That, that surprised Charlie enough for him to stop staring in the vague direction he'd seen Draco pass a few minutes before. So he turned around, his hands on his hips in a position of both curiosity and slight annoyance — a mix and show of it he'd picked up from his mother a long time ago. He raised an eyebrow at Albert, always enjoying how his arcade piercing clicked when he did that. </p><p>"You think you're being subtle boy? I know you like I've made you and you think you're being subtle…" Albert laughed, once again clapping a hand on Charlie's shoulder before he winked at him and disappeared out of the barn he'd cornered him in to begin with. </p><p>Charlie watched the double swing doors for a while, smiling after the man who was essentially his mentor, and smiling still as he thought about Draco, and the way he couldn't stop picturing his blushing face the other night…</p><p>He was getting out of the barn, intent on going back to his room, he was done working for the rest of the day after all, when the swing doors swung harder than before and Charlie had to jump out of the way. A very dishevelled Draco passed him by, huffing as he dragged a stack of bagged scales — his handy work cleaning up the dragons. It looked as heavy as Charlie knew it was, that's how he'd started out too, but he couldn't quite focus on that. </p><p>What with being mesmerized by Draco's form in his plain white tee-shirt and long leather pants. Sweating. Huffing. Tired. Red-cheeked. </p><p>Red cheeks looked so good on him, no matter the reason apparently. </p><p>"Hi," Charlie decided to announce himself when it seemed Draco hadn't noticed him. It made the man startle, and straighten up, looking around him sort of wildly — "Just me." </p><p>Charlie put a hand on his hip again, watching Draco as the man took <em> him </em> in, and grinning when it made his cheeks redden even more. </p><p>"Hi." He said — <em> awkward </em>, a little voice in Charlie's head sing-sung. It was cute. </p><p>"We kissed Draco, if you didn't like it, it's fine, we don't do it again and you don't have to feel uncomfortable. No big deal." Charlie said gently, walking closer to the other man as he did, staring at him for clues. </p><p>Draco wasn't hard to read, even if Charlie had a feeling he thought or wished he was. </p><p>"It's— It's not that." Draco told him, sighing before biting his lip, chin high the same as he'd done when Charlie had been on the verge of kissing him that night. Like he was daring him to do something. Like he was challenging himself to stay put this time. </p><p>"It's not?" Charlie took another step forward, not commenting on the fact that Draco tried to step back as a result but bumped into the other bags of scales already piled in the barn. </p><p>"I liked it." Draco said, and it looked like it cost him to say it so Charlie once again stopped himself from remarking on the way he pierced his bag by fidgeting too much with the edge of it. They could clean up later. </p><p>"Want to, maybe, do it again then?" Charlie tried, taking yet another step, and then another, until he was standing as close to Draco as he could without touching him or going cross-eyed. </p><p>"Maybe." Draco replied, and he did that pointy chin thing again, and Charlie chuckled, but he went for it. </p><p>He brushed Draco's sweaty hair back behind one ear, and then the other, then cupped his face. He brushed a thumb to his flushed cheek. He watched Draco blink a few too many times, and smiled. </p><p>"Me too." He whispered, then slowly closed the gap between them and claimed the man's lips. </p><p>The tattoo at his back seemed to flare again, like it had the first time they'd done this, and Charlie smiled into their kiss — magic would never stop surprising him. He did not believe in fate, but Draco sure was a name for a bloke Charlie thought he could see himself falling in love with. </p><p>But then he also stopped thinking, and focused on kissing the life out of said bloke. </p><p>They were alone in here, Albert wouldn't come back and everyone else was either sleeping till their shift or working it. It was perfect, and when Draco started threading his fingers into his hair and arching into his touch, Charlie felt at home here, at <em> Dracorum Tectorum </em>, working under his mentor taking care of his favourite creatures,  in Draco's arms. </p>
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